


Freedom In The Dark

by Isabeau_Gower



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Gen, self mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-07
Updated: 2005-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isabeau_Gower/pseuds/Isabeau_Gower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Chin Yisou's attack, how does Hakkai deal with the personal demons that plague him and how does he hide it from the rest of the Sanzo party?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very dark story dealing with feelings of guilt and depression and using self mutilation as a coping mechanism. Please be aware this is not intended for everyone and avoid if you believe this to be a trigger for you.

Freedom in the Dark  
Isabeau Gower

Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki or its characters and derive no profit from this work of fanfiction.  
Rating: R for adult topics  
Warning: This story deals with self-mutilation and is not appropriate for all readers.

 

It had started again just after the group had run into Chin Yisou. Despite the encouragement of his friends, he just couldn’t shake the guilt, the pain, the responsibility. He sensed himself falling into that familiar old feeling, the need for pain to replace the hurt.

It was something the others would never understand, never forgive, but it was what he knew, how he coped. Not so terribly often anymore, these little excursions of his. If they were camping, he would need to take a little longer to go off to the stream to wash the dishes. If they were in town, no one ever questioned his need to go after supplies. If he was gone a little longer than usual, he would just pick up a few larger items so there would be more bags. No one ever questioned his absences, and with his skin covered from head to toe with long sleeves, long pants, high necks, no one questioned his appearance. The only time he would ever be seen was usually after a battle and that provided plenty of deniability.

It was so terribly easy when you were expected to carry a knife and have plenty of medical supplies, what with being the group healer and all. He had a new knife for this occasion. Yes, there were many perks to being trusted with Sanzo’s credit card. It had been moderately extravagant, but it was a beautiful knife and it held an edge so very, very well. The black and silver handle fit so perfectly, so comfortingly in his hand. Just hefting it somehow allowed some of the tension to bleed out of his body. What the handle didn’t accomplish, the beautiful blade always could.

This night, he really had needed to go for supplies and to make matters worse there were only two rooms. He managed to get Sanzo and Gojyo to room together by subtly buying a large carton of cigarettes and reminding them how short they had been on smokes lately. He knew that the two men would want to spend the evening catching up with their addictions and, given how soundly Goku slept, he would have a chance to sneak out and indulge his own.

He waited until the inn was quiet, until every last thing had yielded its grip on consciousness and slid into deep restful slumber. Around 4am, he quietly picked up his pack and made his way down to the bathing area of the building. If he timed this well, he would be back before anyone woke up. Even if he didn’t, he could always claim that Goku’s snoring had woken him early and he decided to bathe, dress, and check the maps before breakfast. Always have everything well planned out; that was paramount.

He reached the room and checked to see if the door had a working lock. It wouldn’t do to be stumbled across by someone if he could avoid it. No, this time his luck would not hold. It was a large room with curtained enclosures much like the dormitory he had lived in back… No, that wasn’t something to remember right now. There were things to do, important things that needed to be taken care of, quickly and efficiently. He carried his pack to the curtained area furthest from the door and set his supplies on the bench. The inn was quiet enough that, even at this distance, he would still hear the door open, yet it was far enough away to give him time to hide the evidence of his actions if he were quick.

He looked over his supplies with a sense of pride: his knife, his bandages, and the alcohol. ‘Still quite warm outside, risk of needing to roll up shirtsleeves,’ he thought, ‘the leg would be much better.’ Lowering his slacks, he sat on the bench and calmly folded them with perfect neatness and placed them back inside his pack. It wouldn’t do to risk getting them bloody, that was harder to explain with no battle while on the road today. Cleaning the knife and his legs with the alcohol, he began to slice short lines across each leg, first one, then the other. He always had to remind himself to stop before he really wanted to. He had forgotten already that he should really only do one leg, and that was an egregious enough error for one night. He contented himself with the three four inch long wounds on each leg and readied the bandages.

It was moderately fascinating how the precious cuts stayed so pristine until the alcohol was applied if you had a sharp enough knife. Holding the bottle and bandages carefully, he applied the alcohol to his legs and watched in fascination as the clotting factor yielded to the power of the clear, burning fluid. That was the moment of real release. As gratifying as it was to sink the blade into his own flesh, it was the pain and the blood that came with the alcohol that made all the risk worthwhile.

He continued to apply the alcohol over and over until he noticed that he was in danger of running low on bandages. The sky would begin to lighten soon anyway so it was probably best to stop. A quick shower, where he could watch the slowing trickles of blood wash down the drain along with the scent of the alcohol, completed his visual stimulation. Once out of the shower, he quickly applied pressure to the self-inflicted wounds and dressed them with the remaining bandages. If he told the rest of the party that he had already had breakfast, he might even be able to sneak out to get more gauze with the excuse of needing to make sure that, this time, there were plenty of cigarettes.

Freshly showered, bandaged, and dressed, he gathered his supplies and buried them deeply in the bottom of an out of the way trash can. Yes, another successful evening, and he felt so much better than he had when they had arrived in town. Now he need not feel guilty, he had appeased the vengeful gods of his soul and left a physical reminder to protect his team better. His friends were counting on him; he should not be so careless with their lives.

Walking back through the inn, he heard the sounds of the staff readying the kitchen for breakfast and the welcoming odor of freshly brewed coffee was already wafting through the air. Hakkai took a deep breath and savored the aroma of the stimulating beverage. Perhaps, he thought, he should get a cup on his way back to his room; that would help to complete his story quite well. Having obtained his drink, Hakkai retreated to his room to find Goku beginning to stir in his sleep. As the smell of the coffee registered on the young man’s senses, Goku cracked an eye open to look in his traveling companion’s direction.  
“Good morning, Goku”, Hakkai called out, wearing his trademark smile, “I hope you are ready for breakfast. It looks as though it will be a wonderful day.”


End file.
